Faith is Just one Step
by skabs
Summary: What happens when Dean meets Faith? so far a one shot a couple of weeks after they first meet. enjoy just changed categorys, someone pointed out this should be buffy crossover
1. Chapter 1

Another one of my Supernatural one shots...this one though is a cross-over with Buffy The Vampire Slayer... though it's not Buffy (check the title duh!) I kinda have a whole idea about this one (first part is really short!!), and i'm working on it when I can think of anything else to do with my other storys (so don't expect an update right away) ... and I do have their meeting, Dean and Faith's, typed out, but it's really kinda R rated, so i'll let you guys decide whether I post it or not (big BIG blush factor for me). Anyway, hope you enjoy, Buffy belongs to Joss Whedon, Supernatural to Eric Kripke.

* * *

Heavy grunts, rhythmic breathing; and he still hears her boots thudding dulling on the worn wooden floor. He doesn't look up from his fists, but the slight turn on his head tells her that he is aware of her, leaning against the doors frame. He pushes off from the floor; his fists clenched tightly, his back straight as he rises. He wears only a pair of ratty sweatpants. The gray fabric is stained with things better left unsaid, so many holes it's a wonder that there is enough material left to classify them as pants. Yet he wears them, time and time again, as he pushes off his habitual 300 push-ups every morning. 

He smirks as she runs her eyes over his body, he is well aware of her scrutiny. She lingers over the scars, bruises and scratches. They travel over his tough skin, stretched over the inclines of hard muscles. There doesn't seem to be an inch of spare fat anywhere on his body, his arms quiver slightly. He finishes his last push and allows his body to lie flat against the concrete of the back porch, cool against his sweaty chest and cheek. His eyes flicker up to her, following the tips of her boots, over ripped and patched jeans, her tiny tank-top and the braid that rests over her shoulder. His swamp green eyes meet her muddy brown, then they linger over the bruise high on her cheek and the cut over her left eyebrow. It isn't bleeding anymore, but she sees the concern as he gets to his feet.

His hand reaches up to wipe away blood, to linger on her cheekbone, gently. He kisses her other cheek and pulls her into the kitchen. He wets a paper towel and shoves her into a chair, patting the blood carefully away. Her eyes rest on the middle of his torso, his chest glimmers with sweat, her hands reach out to rest on his hips. The lines of his hip bones jut out; creating a deep crevice that disappears into his waist band. The elastic around his waist is so worn that the pants rest carelessly over his hips. One stray push…

He pulls her up to her feet, knowing exactly what she is thinking as he smirks, and then leads her out of the kitchen. He pulls her up the stairs, only the tips of his fingers touching hers, but she'll follow where his leads, as long as it's where she's going anyway.

He suddenly tugs her into his arms, trapping her hands against his chest as his fingers curl around her waist. He backs her up until she falls into bed, he lets her go and bends to untie her boots and fling them across the room. He unhooks her jeans and peels them from her hips, frowning slightly at the bruises on her legs, kissing them gently like he did her cheek. Her eyes flutter closed, she sighs.

He flips the cool sheet over her body and as she open her eyes, confused, she hears the sound of the bedroom door closing, and he's going down the stairs.


	2. tell me a story

so, i'm stuck on my hp/bvs crossover, so i thought i'd fiddle around with this one for a while, as i started typing it all came out. three hours and ten tired fingers later i have this. i figured i'd go ahead and post it.

supernatural belongs to eric kripke, buffy the vampire slayer to joss whedon

and just so you know, this is all au after season two of supernatural (and basically the last episodes are the same except that sam didn't die and dean didn't sell his soul, and that whole, set thousands of demons on the earth thing didn't really happen either, thats just too much for my little mind to comprehend and i'd rather that be all angsty and on tv. i don't do angst very well, so i won't try it.)

and for those of you who read buffy comic books, dawn has not lost her virginity and turned into a giant because of it, personally i thought that was a bit ridiculous. she's tall enough as it is.

* * *

He wondered if he should have used butterfly bandages on her forehead. If it had been his little brother he would have used them in a heart beat. No matter how much he protested. But with her… he shook his head and marveled at the situation he'd found himself in this time. He pulled a white t-shirt over his head and punched out his arms through both sleeves at the same time, almost a fighting move if he'd been just a little more violent and had anybody to hit. 

He had no idea what he'd been doing, down in the kitchen with a mug of coffee and the girl he's pretty sure he's falling in love with sleeping upstairs. It had been a violent lust that brought them together after fighting off eight foot tall demons with spikes and nasty green skin. She'd been waving an ax around like an extension of her own arm; he'd been pumping round after round of consecrated ammo into chest cavity after chest cavity. When they'd finally stopped fighting, surrounded by dismembered demon pieces, she'd yelled at him, suspicious and pissed. He didn't have to worry about washing his clothes of the purple slime and blue blood; she'd ripped them off his body as soon as they'd stumbled over her threshold.

Four days later and he'd learned that she'd been born into this life, just like he'd been. Traveling across the country with a woman she'd called her Watcher, learning about things that go bump in the night, only to watch as the bumper's killed her. A vampire who'd followed her and made her life a nightmare, she'd finally killed after several harrowing conflicts.

She'd learned that he and his brother had finally killed the thing that haunted them their entire lives, killed both their parents, and now he was finally free to decide what the hell he wanted to do with the rest of his life. He was free, only he had no idea what else he could do. He was floating, with no ideas; in fact making the next decision almost terrified him. He had no talent, no skill other than mass mayhem. His father had raised him a warrior, in an age that had no commercial need of them. He wanted to stop running, but he had no idea what awaited him at the finish line.

His brother was more equipped to deal with normal than he was. Sam was back in school, earning a teaching degree, for what it was worth. Before he'd been dragged off by his brother, before his girlfriend had been killed by the same demon that killed his mother, Sam was going to be a lawyer. Now he was back at college, and he was determined to teach. Dean wasn't going to object. They both needed their own lives, no matter how much he wanted to haunt his brother and keep him safe. So for the past few months he'd been wandering, restless. He hadn't really stopped to think beyond the next hunt.

He sat at the kitchen table, sipping coffee and finally putting his restless mind to work. What the hell was he going to do? He couldn't get a legitimate job; he was still wanted by the authorities for killing that girl, for escaping prison, for impersonating a police officer, credit card fraud… he groaned thinking about his rap sheet. Though it had been a shape-shifter who killed in St. Louis, not him, and the rest of the allegations were incurred saving people from demons, he didn't think they'd take that as truth. He and Sam had gone through a lot of shit and many different favors to get Sam a new identity, so he could go to college and live his life. No favors left for Dean, too many people knew him. He was what was called "notorious".

The phone rang, Dean ignored it. He doesn't know much about the slayer upstairs, but he knows that the people most likely to call her wouldn't take well to a strange male voice answering her phone. After a short message to leave your comments up your ass to wait for someone who cares, he heard the beep and the peppy voice on the other end.

"So, Faith darling, you've got to hear about the new apocalypse. Call me."

Dean nodded, got to his feet and goes to get his whetstone and knives from his trunk. He might as well do something constructive, waiting for her to wake up.

* * *

He heard the front door slam, then ice pick heels on the floor before the voice turned itself on. Obviously hearing him in the kitchen the heels followed the sound and the high Southern Cali drawl filtered through the hall. 

"Connor said you just showed up, got knocked around, hacked off a few limbs and left without trying to flirt with him. What's wrong with you?" A tall caramel haired girl in a blue windbreaker and khaki capris stalked past him and flung open the refrigerator door. She bent down, giving him a nice view of a rounded bottom before straightening like a rod and staring at him in shock. "You are not Faith."

"No, I'm not," Dean agreed as he went back to sharpening a ritual dagger he'd taken off of two dumb-ass kids in Michigan one spring. "She's upstairs sleeping."

"And you would be?"

"Just a friend," he tried to shrug her off, setting the knife down carefully before gathering all the grimy bits on the newspaper he'd set down. He crumpled it all up and moved past her to get to the trash can. He turned around only to find the dagger he'd just sharpened at his neck, held by a steady hand.

"I know all of Faith's friends, hell I am all of Faith's friends."

"Well, you don't know me, sweetheart."

"Obviously."

Dean didn't get the same glimmers of "different" around this girl that he did whenever he saw Faith, so she wasn't one of the slayers he'd been told about. That didn't mean this girl didn't know what to do with a knife, but it did mean he had a slight advantage. He leaned back quickly, ducked and shot his foot out, hooking it around her knee. Shocked, she dropped the knife, and he caught her as she fell.

"You hardly weigh a damn thing, do you?" he asked as he straightened out. The lady was tall, but there was almost nothing to her, unlike Faith. Faith was small and made from pure muscle and round curves.

"You will put me down now," she demanded as he walked across the kitchen and into the living room.

"All right," he shrugged, and dropped her onto the couch. She bounced prettily before scrambling to her feet.

"Dean," Faith chastised, leaning against the door frame. She smiled as he passed her, kissing her gently before nodding his head to the scowling lady and excusing himself.

"Faith!"

"D, what's up?"

"I was coming to ask you that question, but now that I've met cave-man, I think I know the answer," she was referring to the fact that Faith was, in the middle of the day, wearing nothing more than a tank-top and her underwear.

"Dawn…"

"Don't give me that look. You wanted to be all updated with the dating front, and when I come to give you that update you get all Faith on me."

"I'm a verb now?"

"You know what I mean."

"Unfortunately I've gotten used to you, so yes I do know what you mean. You had a date last night; I want to know about it."

"No rituals."

"Good."

"No blood sucking."

"Better."

"He's actually taller than me, and he's going to be a teacher."

She heard a slight cough coming from the kitchen, as if the guy was trying not to laugh.

"Name?"

"What?"

"Dawn, what is the guy's name?"

"Sam."

Now they both turned to look at the man, leanng aganst the kitchen table, laughing his ass off.

"Is he having an attack of some kind?" Dawn asked, mystified.

"I have no idea."

It took a while for Dean to wind down, but he did, eventually. He disappeared upstairs and came back wearing jeans and a beat-up leather jacket. He leaned over to kiss Faith's cheek and give Dawn a smirking grin before grabbing his car keys from a hook next to the fridge.

"I'm sorry, darling, I'm going to the store, I can't sit around and listen to your friend extol the virtues of my baby brother," he jingled the keys in his hand for a few seconds while the sentence soaked into their minds.

"Brother?"

"Sam is your brother?"

"Do you need milk?" he asked as he opened the fridge, ignoring their dropped jaws.

"Baby brother? He's at least a foot taller," Dawn smirked.

"Apple juice? I'll pick up some eggs too."

"He looks nothing like you."

"Some bread, ice cream. You can't go wrong with rocky- road."

"Answer me you ape!"

"Samuel W Jones, he's not a foot taller than me, and I'll have you know his hair is only that long because he thinks it makes him look intense. At least that's what he told me when he asked Jenny Robinson out in the tenth grade." Dean held out a nearly empty bottle of carrot juice and shook it. "Do you want me to get you more of this crap?"

"Faith, how is it that I finally meet a normal, nice guy, and it turns out his brother is sleeping with you?" Dawn had to ask.

"I dunno Dawnie, and I'd rethink that normal vibe. I met Dean while hacking a couple of parasites to pieces," then she looked over at Deans inquisitive face. "Yes, Dean, I'd like some more if you're willing to buy me crap."

"All right, I'll be back," Dean closed the fridge door and stuck his thumbs in his pants pockets, whistling as he left the building.

"This is so not fair," Dawn gripped her hair and laid down on the couch, her feet plopped on the arm so she could lay as prone as possible.

"Why not? You met a nice guy, and he knows about the supernatural. I can guarantee you he didn't go out with you to sacrifice you to something or someone, seeing as how they're hunters, not wizards. And according to Dean his brother was really happy about spending some time with a nice, normal girl last night. Now you know you were both wrong on that normal part, but you're both nice so that's a plus," Faith shrugged negligently and leaned back in her cushy chair.

"Well…"

"You've both got secrets, so all you have to do is confront him on his, and I don't think yours are going to baffle him so much. I explained Slayer's to Dean and his reaction was a grin followed by a rambling questionnaire on how girls are chosen. He was processing info so fast I half expected him to go "watcher" on me and demand a research party."

"He didn't though."

"Nope, he jumped me instead. Said how thinking about warrior women gets him hot," and the silly grin on Faith's lips only verified the story.

"Oh, I so did not need to hear that."

"He's got the most amazing-"

"Ah!" Dawn held her hands to her ears and starting humming really loudly as she watched Faith explain, and when her hands started to trace a shape in the air she shut her eyes to Faith's grin.

* * *

Sam was waiting on a park bench in between classes. His laptop out on his knees, he surfed through a couple of websites set up by hunters who wanted to spread the knowledge around. Quite a few of them were very informative, Sam was thinking about creating one himself. He smirked as the shadow fell over his shoulder, then the slim hand fell on it. 

"Hey stranger," Dawn leaned over to kiss his cheek, and then snuck a quick peak at the screen. "Whatcha doin?"

"Oh," Sam closed his browser and turned around with a shrug. "Just tooling around, waiting for you."

They had actually met in the same spot, Dawn tripping over Sam's long legs as she power walked to her next class. She snapped at him, then at herself, then impressed Sam with her ability to babble continuously for almost five minutes without pausing for air. When he finally got her calmed down he walked her to her class, which happened to be his class on child psychology. Then they took their notes and homework to a locally run café, and spent too much time hedging around the truth.

Dawn had to edit out almost all of her extra curricular activities, why she was really going into psychology, and pretty much only shared how much she liked classes, coffee, and hated how protective her sister was. The only reason it really worked though, and she knew it now, was that Sam was trying to steer clear of the same areas she was.

"Looking up demons and stuff? That a serious hobby?" She wasn't above a little teasing when it came right down to it.

"Just a thing, not really…" Sam paused, he didn't want to lie, but he knew she knew he'd be hedging. She'd told him the previous night that she didn't mind him not saying something, but she didn't like lies. He sighed, "It's just something I do every once in a while."

Dawn smirked, and then plopped down beside him. "Well, I do that sometimes too."

Sam finished powering down his laptop and slipped it into its bag before turning to her. "Tool around demonic internet sites?" he tried to make it into a joke, but she heard the dread in his voice. She understood it, in the way that only a girl whose first kiss came from a vampire could really understand.

"Sometimes," she smirked, and gathered up her courage to grab his hand as he stood. "I think that after class we should sit somewhere quiet and talk, I have some things I want to say that we don't need an audience for."

"Ah, I don't know if Dean'll be home…" Sam knew that his brother had a girl, or several girls, in town. Dean had only been back to the apartment to check on Sam and grab clean clothes, only spending three nights in the past two weeks back with his brother.

"That would be perfect," Dawn threaded her fingers between Sam's and hoped that when they came clean about each others pasts they could figure out how to deal with the future.

* * *

Dawn had been fidgeting all through class; it had taken Sam's hand on her knee to quiet the bouncing that had a couple of students glaring at her. Now as they walked through the halls of his building she hadn't taken his hand. He found that more telling than anything else, Dawn, he found, was a very tactile person. It was like she enjoyed just reaffirming how solid everything was. He unlocked his door, hoping beyond hope that his brother wasn't home, and pushed it open with a sweep of the hand. 

He let Dawn go through first, mostly because he was a guy and his father had instilled at least a little bit of "gentlemanly behavior" into him, and second because the ward crystal he had hanging in the middle window would automatically scan for ill intent. He didn't think anything would happen, but he was still faintly relieved when it didn't.

"Do you want something to drink?" Sam asked as he threw his bag on the coffee table, then paused when he noticed Dawn just standing in the middle of the room, tensed up and linking her fingers together nervously. "Dawn, seriously, what's wrong?"

"God," she let out an explosive breath. "Okay, I so thought this would be of the good, and instead of waiting for the shoe I could just spill about me knowing about you and then you getting to know about me and instead I could come out sounding all omnipotent about knowing all about you and your brother, who by the way is a very rude type person, and you don't look anything like him, and I like that anyway, with the ambush thing and the knowing thing and my sister killing vampires for a living, and how I'm not really, really real like of the actual mother and father persuasion and I get all jittery now because it wouldn't be new to you, all this other worldly stuff but I end up here and talking really, really fast because it's how I let people I like know that I'm all of the nervous and I wish you would just shut me up because I know that I'm babbly and babbling isn't good for a sit down intelligent type conversation in which I let you know that my babysitter before my hometown got sunk into a crater and demolished by actual evil was a neutered vampire and my sisters best friend that I always had a little crush on had been engaged to a vengeance demon who wasn't really of the demony persuasion anymore until he left her at the altar because he had visions of a horrible future where they ended up hating each other, but they weren't real visions, they were sent by the evil and then it plucked out his eyeball and Faith is here to protect me from other worldly nesses which is kinda funny cause I'm all otherworldly ness myself and my nickname was Dawns in trouble it must be Tuesday, but I met your brother this morning and he's all shacking up with Faith, so when I found out the truth about you and how you grew up because Faith was telling me so that I could confront you about it without it being all of the awkward and now I've totally messed up and it is really awkward and you think I'm evil and I'm going to-"

Sam had only caught about three words in every messed up line, but understood enough to know that, one, Dawn met Dean, two, Dawn knew about demons, three, Dawn was nervous enough that her pacing was going to wear a trench in his carpet. So he stopped Dawn the only way his frazzled brain could think of. He grabbed her, he kissed her.

Dawn felt the soft lips, then the large hands wrapped around her slim hips, then the forehead that rested against hers as Sam drew back and smirked.

"I think you meant omniscient, not omnipotent."

"What's the difference?"

"All knowing vs. All powerful."

"Ah, all right," then to steal his smirk away she kissed him, winding her fingers through his long hair.

"Are we going to have a conversation?" Sam asked against her lips.

"When I'm done," Dawn muttered, and opened her lips for his entrance. After a few minutes she sighed and pulled away. Fluttering open her eyes she noticed that Sam's were a dead lock on hers. He hadn't looked away the entire time, now he was waiting for answers. Just to stall a little longer she stepped back and smiled sheepishly. "Can you make some coffee or something? It's going to be a long talk."

* * *

"When I was fourteen I found out that I wasn't real," Dawn took a sip of coffee and shook her head at Sam's frown. "I mean, I'm real, but I wasn't really born in the normal sense. You see, to start at the beginning, my sister is the Vampire Slayer." 

"Slayers, I've heard about that, pretty powerful stuff right?"

"Yeah, and my sister, in particular, is very powerful. Not only did she survive on a Hellmouth all throughout high-school, she is also the only Slayer to survive beyond nineteen. Well, until Faith came about," Dawn shrugged. "You see, Slayers are called as the last one dies, only one at a time until very recently, and they have very short life expectancies."

"That sucks, but I can see how someone with that much power would be a target all the time," Sam was sitting at the kitchen table as Dawn stalked up and down the room, her feet silent, socks against linoleum.

"Buffy died when she was seventeen, just long enough for the next Slayer to be called, Xander brought her back with CPR."

"Faith?"

"No, her name was Kendra, and she didn't last very long. But after Kendra was Faith," Dawn took another sip of coffee and waved her free hand negligently. "There is a whole story there that doesn't really involve me, but I remember it, like I remember everything else that happened. I wasn't there for any of it, but it's all very clear in my head, what happened."

"Ok, so where does your story start?" Sam leaned back as she shot him a grateful look, it was obvious that she just didn't want to talk about that time, and he knew that she really didn't want to talk about herself. He picked his battle, lancing the major wound before talking about the, relatively, minor.

"Right, start, umm…" Dawn set down her mug and started clasping her hands together, twisting her fingers, rubbing her palms, then finally coming to a decision she sat down at the table, opposite Sam. "In 2000, these monks called the Order of Dagan, sent this living ball of energy to my sister Buffy, and from her and it, they made me. They made me her sister so she would protect me from Glory, a hell-goddess, who wanted to use my energy to open a portal to her home dimension and bring it here." Dawn took a deep breath, looked up at Sam, and let out a high wail in the back of her throat at his blank expression. She bumped her head down on the table and started muttering.

"You think I'm insane, and there is something seriously wrong with me, and that you should never talk to me again cause I'm obviously unbalanced…"

"Dawn," Sam let his hand cover hers, "trust me, I don't think you're insane."

"Really?" she asked, her head still on the table, voice strained from holding back paniced babbling.

"To tell you the truth, I've heard odder things," he smiled when she looked up at him, obvious disbelief in her eyes.

"Odder things than a mystical ball of energy is my girlfriend?" she blushed, "I mean, if you want me to be your girlfriend, cause I honestly really like you, and it doesn't seem like you're the type to try and sacrifice me for evil portal openings, and you're really nice and cute, and you make me laugh, and I really need to shut up so will you kiss me aga-"

Dawn found out that one good thing about Sam was he turned out to be a pretty awesome boyfriend. No sooner had she asked, than his lips were on hers, quieting not only her babbling, but her mind. Even with a table between them, it was indescribably nice to have his lips on hers, his hand tangled in her hair.

"Thanks," she piped when he drew away.

"Don't mention it," he traced her lower lip with his thumb before settling back and picking up his mug.

"You took that really well," she said as he took a sip.

"Was that a question?" he asked.

"Kinda."

"One slightly abridged life story for another then, I guess," Sam thought for a second on how to start, then grinned, because there was only one place such a story could begin. "To tell you the truth, it all starts with Dean."

* * *

i know, sam is taking this rather well, trust me, he'll have questions later, but since we all pretty much know what dawn is saying, and what isn't being said, it'll come out in a natural flow instead of an entire summary of events in one sitting. not only is that unrealistic, but boring beyond belief. (for me to write as well as for you to read) besides, sam is the type of person who'd rather look things up and figure out as much as he can before he asks questions, he's much more a watcher than dean is. and to tell you the truth, i think that may come up as an issue later. seriously, with all the demonic/ ghostly things the winchesters have done, do you really think that the council doesn't know about them? 


End file.
